Belle

Some days, I just want to run away because I don't believe that I'll ever be good enough. I don't think I'll ever be doing all of the things I'm supposed to be doing to be an emotionally and physically and spiritually healthy person.

There is always some way in which I am failing and I am really good at recognizing that.

My therapist told me we are digging deeper into my feelings regarding Belle moving two hours away. Probably because I waited until five minutes before our session was over to start letting my emotions out and actually talk about it all. I do that a lot with harder topics. And Belle moving away has been a harder topic because it makes me feel stupid. I feel weak and stupid that a friend moving two hours away affects me this much.

This loss makes sense based on my past relationships. I definitely have abandonment issues. But it just makes me so angry that it all stems back to my abandonment trauma with Peter and I hate how everything in my life seems to stem back to that awful time in my life.

I lost Peter. I lost Alice. And now I lost Belle. This sounds like an incredibly stupid Disney movie gone bad.

But it is definitely NOT a Disney movie. Because in an actual Disney movie, I'd get those people back in the end. This would all wrap up with some amazing happily ever after. All relationships would heal and we would all sing and freaking birds would dance around in the air.

But that isn't how life works.

Instead of a happily ever after that magically wraps it all up, I am supposed to be in charge of my happily ever after. And although some days, I am doing that pretty damn well, other days, I feel like such a failure.

I know I didn't lose Belle in the same way. She is still my best friend. We still talk. But she isn't right down the street and I can't go see her any time I want.

In fact, I no longer have anyone like that around me. And that has been brutal the past few months.

Peter left me almost FIVE years ago. And here I am, still struggling to be alone. I immerse myself in teaching dance and doing homework and filling out job applications and taking care of my 4 month old (Oh, did I not mention I got a BABY on Easter Sunday who is now 4 months old?!) but when my kids are with their dad, I still go home and have no one to talk to. I take care of Cubby and that gives me a sense of purpose but unfortunately, 4-month-olds don't talk.

I haven't gone to church much since Belle moved. I feel more alone there than I have in a long time. I don't feel connected to my ward. I go because my kids need me to go. I go because I know it's the right thing to do. But I'd like to go because I want to go.

I just want to stop going through the motions. I want to try harder. But I feel so stuck in this pit of anxiety.

I feel like I'm struggling to find enough energy for self-care right now because all of my energy goes toward providing for everybody else. And I love that I get to be teaching dance and going to school and spending a lot of time with my babies---but I just need to find a better balance.

Hope

I think my body must've known it'd been three years, even though my brain didn't know until a memory popped up on Facebook. 

The anxiety I've felt all weekend has been pretty severe---chest pains, numbing, considering giving up on everything I've worked for. 

I couldn't figure out why I felt that way. Was it a money issue? A friend issue? A parenting issue? A divorce issue? 

I still don't quite know. 

But what I do know is that yesterday marked three years since my deepest heartbreak as a single mom. 

So maybe that played a part. 

When I realized this, I thought back on the past three years and all of the changes and healing that have taken place. 

I lost support. 

I left the church. 

I cut a lot of ties. 

I made new, genuine friendships. 

I came back to church. 

And I realized just how seldom I think about that day anymore. 

A portion of the past three years was spent being kicked down, building myself back up, only to be kicked down again. 

But I've learned how to better dodge those kicks. 

You guys, the remarkable thing is that I'm grateful for everything I've been taught in the past three years. I'm grateful for my time away from my church and the time I've spent back there. I'm grateful for a God who very promptly put healing tools in place when I felt like suicide was the only way to break free from my heartache. I'm grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and the ability He gave me to forgive myself for "hindsight" and also the ability He gave me to forgive others for the pain they caused. 

I don't know if that is why my body is feeling so much anxiety right now and I hate that. I hate how anxiety since the court trial has become hard to identify. It comes and goes fiercely, often times without explanation or warning. 

But I know it won't always be this way. I know the effects of the court trial won't last forever, just as the pain and anxiety of three years ago eventually dissipated. 

So at least there is hope. 

Post-Trial Anxiety and Forgiving Others

I thought that the trial verdict would fix everything. I thought I would be able to breathe. But that hasn't happened.

I think my body realizes it's safe to feel all of those traumatic feelings from the past nine months and it's all just been building inside of me while I tried to stay strong throughout the duration of the trial.

I doubled my Zoloft dose and I'm going back to my therapist this week. I'm trying to use the tools I've learned to combat my anxiety.

And most of the time, it absolutely works! Because most of the time, I have my children at my side.

But when they aren't by my side, my anxiety comes on strong---it no longer creeps in like it used to. It just hits me in the chest and I worry about my children and their future and whether they're safe and whether their father is manipulating them into hating me. And then I start worrying about whether I left a curling iron on and the house will burn down or whether I'll get in a car accident or maybe someone will kidnap my kids or maybe someone will break into our home.

Irrational fears? Yes. But anxiety is almost always full of irrational fears.

I chose to sit alone at church on Sunday because my goal is to soak up the gospel this year. I wasn't sitting alone to be sad or reclusive. I wanted to focus on every word from every speaker. So I chose my own bench, just for me.

And last night, after dinner at my sister's house, I opened up my brand new LDS Addiction Recovery manual that I ordered online a week ago.

I have faith that working through this book will help me calm my anxiety from this past year. And even more importantly, I am working the 12-steps to find forgiveness for my ex-husband and a former group of friends.

I've realized that although I've worked through a lot of forgiveness over the years, I am still holding onto that last little bit---mostly because I am scared that if I completely forgive, it negates all of the pain I have experienced.

I want to be free of the anger and feelings of betrayal. I want to understand as much as I can and then forgive them.

And then I want to focus on forgiving myself for not knowing then what I know now.

Hindsight sucks. But it's also beautiful.

I've learned so much through the eyes of "hindsight".

And I feel this responsibility to myself and my children to use what I've learned in hindsight to protect our future as best I can. Although that won't keep bad things from happening, it will help me to know that I've tried to learn and grow the best I can in the situations I've been given.

Anxiety is one of the worst things I've dealt with these past 5-6 years because not everyone understands the reality of a person with an anxiety disorder. It absolutely affects my every day life and most of the time when I'm acting happy and cheerful, my brain is sending signals of panic and fear.

And then when other people doubt me or betray me, it just reinforces the idea that I should be worried or anxious all of the time.


So I'm anxious and excited for therapy and working the 12-step program and growing even more.

My life is so full of beauty and I do not want to miss the beauty because I'm too busy worrying or feeling anger.

She's Moving

My best friend is moving. 

The friend I ran to when Peter told me he was leaving me---the friend who held me while I sobbed into her shoulder and then drove me to the temple and stayed with me until midnight.

The friend who has picked up Peter's slack and has watched my kids countless hours for free.

The friend who is in my ward and has walked me through my confusing faith journey.

The friend who accompanied me back to the temple almost a year ago and held my hand when I started to freak out and have anxiety and convince myself it was too soon.

The friend who I spend holidays with when I don't have my kids because it is too painful to be around my family and watch my nieces and nephews make memories without my kids present.

She's moving. 

And although it's only an hour and a half away, my heart is aching that I won't be able to drive two streets away and punch in her garage code and walk in like I live there (because I practically do).

And at a time where I may end up losing more time with my kids (because everything just seems to be getting messier), I am so scared to lose her too.

I spoke to God and told him now would be a great time to introduce me to my future husband. He hasn't gotten back to me on that yet...

Selfish

The thing is, you can’t fully trust that anyone will be loyal to you. I think that’s something I’ve learned as I still find myself struggling to fit in to my support groups without feeling this urge to take a huge leap backward.

I still find myself struggling to trust anyone. And I still question whether any of them trust me.

Although the messiest parts seemed to have passed, it isn’t magically over and fixed. I still find myself feeling traumatized and scared to move forward.

And maybe that’s because I had trusted that the messiest parts had passed last summer---and they hadn’t.

So I find myself pondering and learning from this and saying, “Well, Wendy, life is always going to be somewhat messy. You can’t control other people. All you can do is decide how you’re going to handle the messes.”

And that’s kind of what I’ve done.

Because a few weeks ago, I met with an old friend to talk about some of our past messes.

And I started out really optimistic.

And days later, I got extremely pessimistic.

And then I was more realistic.

And mixed in there were really great days and some more messy days.

And now I’m just here---back to mostly optimistic but making sure I’m also being realistic.

Or maybe I’m not optimistic. I don’t know right now.

Today I’m really confused.

Or maybe just sad.

Because I had these high levels of optimism that fixing this would fix other relationships and that we could just move on from here.

But that isn’t always how it works.

Because I don’t get to tell people how to feel or how to act or what to say.

And. That’s. Just. Life.

I was going to attend the Togetherness Project this next August, thinking it was what was best for me, but now I’m quite certain it isn’t.

I had convinced myself that I deserved to go, that I deserved to be there just as much as anyone else and I’ve realized that was my main reason for wanting to go.

And although I DO deserve to be there just as much as anyone else, I don’t need to go just to prove myself.

Because I’ve learned that people are going to hate me if they want to hate me. People are going to believe I’m a liar if they want to believe I’m a liar.

I can’t change any of that.

People can live their lives without trusting me pretty darn easily. That’s not the main problem.

The main problem is when I don’t trust myself because that is when I start to unravel.

When I trust in myself and have faith in myself, I don’t feel this urge to prove myself to the world.

And so, right now, that is what I am working on.

I’m sad about my decision because there are people I’ve wanted to see whom I truly love so deeply.

But today and tomorrow and the next day---I need to be a little more selfish and do what’s best for me. I need to learn to trust more and recover more and worry about the outside stuff less.

I need to save me before I can save anyone else. 

Face To Face

Finally. 

Face to face. 

It only took fourteen months. 

Fourteen months of hurtful comments and hateful looks. 

I took a trusted friend with me because I knew I needed someone to actually process and hear everything while my anxiety did it's work. 

And when we walked up to her, I felt this waive of relief that we were finally face to face after so long. 

And maybe I felt like I had missed her. 

Three hours of each of us explaining our side and trying to get the other person to understand. 

It felt like a divorce mediation. 

She said some things that later I realized were hurtful to me as I thought over them. And I think she knew that. 

I didn't need to know details. But because she had been hurt living through it all, she wanted me to know all of that pain. 

And the reason it was unnecessary is because the whole point of this meeting was supposed to be about moving forward and about telling her how ONLY in hindsight could I have prevented everything. 

The whole point was to convince her I wasn't ever malicious. 

She already knew that though. I know she did. Because she knows me---or at least she knew me. 

I am a completely different person after going through everything I've experienced these past fourteen months. 

So we met. 

And afterward, she asked if I wanted to keep talking and let my friend go home. Maybe her and I could go grab some lunch? 

But I said no. I wasn't ready for that yet. Or maybe ever. 

And when we got in the car to go home, my friend set me straight. 

She is still blaming you. 

What she said was manipulative. 

That felt fake. 

Don't go home and blame yourself all over again. 

And I was surprised because I felt so good. 

But my friend was right. 

Because later that night, I started to panic about all of those details. 

She had gotten to me again. 

Whether consciously or subconsciously, she had said things in a way that made me wonder if this was all my fault. 

Was I really to blame? 

Somewhere deep down, did I know what I was doing? 

And as I pondered these questions and allowed myself to go back to that dark place for a minute, I suddenly remembered back to those days and weeks. And I remembered my heart and how I did everything right in the moment---the best I knew how. 

I told the truth. And although that truth brought about more pain for a while, it was still the truth. 

And in that moment, I knew that meeting did not have the power to put our relationship back where it had been fifteen months ago. 

And I didn't want it to go back. 

Because I remembered how all of this hurt my family and made it so that I could not safely talk about my own children's pain and healing. 

I had been stifled because I had been blamed by someone who should've trusted me---who should've answered when I tried to call dozens of times---who should've come over to my house to talk face to face when everything happened---who should've trusted me instead of turning me into a villain. 

I was never able to talk about my own children being hurt because the times that I tried to, I received nasty comments about how this was all my fault anyway. 

 And I suddenly questioned how any of those people would've known the part about my own children. Because I had only told one person from their group. 

And so when months later, a comment was made on Facebook that said, "How sad that you are dealing with that on top of your son being molested", how did that person know? 

And I suddenly realized that the betrayal went much further than I had thought. I kept quiet about what had happened, not knowing that a large group of people were spreading around the fact that my son had been involved. 

My family was not kept safe in all of this. 

And none of them really seemed to care about that fact. Nobody stood up and said, "No matter the circumstances, we should NOT be gossiping about her children." 

Nobody did that for us.

So yes, we met face to face. And maybe it helped in little ways. 

But it will never be the same. Because the protection of my family is far more important than gaining a friend back who wasn't really a friend anyway. 

And I have so many people in my life who are capable of trusting me through really shitty times. 

So I'm glad it's over. And I will continue to move on and heal each and every day. 

**************

PS: My children are bravely and beautifully doing well. They are warriors. And they are my greatest teachers. And I may never mention their part in this again. Or I might if it feels right. But I hope if you read this, you will respect the privacy of my children in all of this. 

Unbreakable

 Once upon a time, I thought I was unbreakable.

And then my husband left me.
And my children struggled.
And a lot of my friends decided to hate me.
And some of my friends betrayed me.
And I struggled with my faith.
And my eating disorder almost killed me.

And I broke. 

I thought I was unbreakable---and I broke. 
Not once. Not twice. But multiple times, I broke. 

And I remember as each of these things happened that I would look toward Heaven and wonder WHY?
I would get so angry.
I would cry.
I would reach out.
I would hide out.
I would experience deep feelings of anxiety.
And some of the times, I wanted to die.


And then time would pass and people who truly loved me would remind me why they stay and God would comfort me.

And somehow, the thing that I thought I would never heal from would start to heal. The wounds would scab over. The sun would peek out of the clouds. The flowers would start to bloom again.

It was in these moments that I was reminded time and time again that I am not unbreakable.
I am not. 
But when I break, I don't break forever.

Today I am relishing in this truth---that I am a survivor. I did not give up, even when I wanted to so many times.

I did not give up. 

I have spent countless hours of crying and wondering and doubting and although this sounds awful, it isn't always awful. Because those hours of crying and wondering and doubting are what made me who I am today.

A much stronger, more resilient, more compassionate Wendy. 

And I've learned that the people who blame me or hate me or try to break me---they don't know me. And that thought used to frustrate me. I used to get upset thinking I'd given up a portion of my life to people in my life whom I truly loved but who didn't love me back and I hated that they never took the time to truly know me.
But I no longer feel that way.
It no longer makes me angry.

It makes me sad---for them.

Because I know who I am. I know how incredible I am. I know what is inside of my heart. And anybody willing to try and break that is missing out.

My life is beautiful not because it's perfect and not because the sun is always shining. My life is beautiful because I choose to see it that way.

I choose to bask in the brightness that is my children and being a dance teacher and being a child of God and a Christian. I choose to remember the good and learn from the bad.

I might be breakable---but I am also capable of healing. 

And that is what truly counts. 

A Life I Love

A few days ago, my coworker came into my office and was telling me about how she met a childhood friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in years. This friend was asking about me and whether I was still active in the church and how my life was going after divorce and my coworker said, "Well, you know, she's just had a really hard life."

As she was relaying this conversation back to me, her last comment took me by surprise. A part of me was thinking, "Yes, I have! This shit has been hard and traumatic!" But there was a different part of me, the more healed part of me that was thinking, "Everyone has hard stuff. Everyone. My life isn't based on only the hard stuff. There is a whole slew of beautiful roads traveled and beautiful roads in my future."

And that's where I'm at today. 

I'm not fully recovered. I don't know if I'll ever make that concrete statement. But so much of me is doing so much better.

So much better. 

I was out with friends last night having dinner and shopping with my tribe of warriors whom I love and they kept joking about how I had also made plans later in the evening with another set of friends. And how tonight I have more plans with more friends.
And as I was thinking about this fact this morning, I felt an immense amount of love from my Heavenly Father because friendships have not always been my forte. I was bullied a lot as a child by people whom I felt should've loved and accepted me. It was extremely painful and I've held onto trauma from those days for a long time and wondered if I'd ever be able to have real friendships.

And I do. 

I absolutely do. 

My life right now---this is the life I could live forever and never regret it. I mean, I'd like a husband and possibly more children but I don't need that for happiness.
In fact, I really don't need anything for happiness. Just my attitude.

That's been a huge learning curve throughout this process. 

I used to get so angry and ask God why I was feeling so much resentment and sadness when I wanted to bounce back to my happy self. It took me a long time to remember that happiness is something I make, not something I'm given.

Being happy doesn't mean you never get sad or hurt. To me, living a happy life means basking in the joyous times and learning from the darker times.

In my opinion, that is the only way for us to grow. 

I love my life right now. I remember as I was going through my divorce, I was in the biggest hurry to date again and get remarried because I was certain I wouldn't heal or find happiness until I had a man by my side.
But the truth is, I love my life because I'm focusing on loving myself and the people whom God has placed in my life.

I'm not there with my eating disorder---that still gets to me a lot of the time and I don't love my body. But I love who I am, the kind of person that I am.

This girl deserves so much. 

So much. 

And I am so grateful for life these days. I'm so grateful that I've continued on through some pretty horrific events. I'm grateful that I've stood when a lot of people expected me to fall. And I'm grateful for the people who have been there to catch me time and time again so that when I do fall, I don't hit the ground as hard.

Dreams

As a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a wife and a mother. I read fairytales and watched Disney princess movies and believed I'd be able to follow those dreams someday.

At the age of 14, I received my patriarchal blessing and it talked about getting married and having children. I was elated. I couldn't wait for those days. I had always known I wanted to be a mother.

I never worried about whether my husband would treat me well. I never worried about whether I would have miscarriages or be infertile.
Those weren't part of my plan so the thoughts never really entered my mind.

But I've learned some pretty important things in my life. The growing up I've done in the last 4 years is insurmountable in comparison to how much growing up I did the first 18 years of my life.

I know that there is something much bigger than me---God---and that He knows how to take care of me. I know He will help me fight my battles and bask in my joys. I know He loves it when I smile and He is sad when I'm hurting.

And I know that even though my dreams have changed, they are still possible and real.

I was a dancer for 12 years growing up. Twelve years of my life, I spent hours in front of mirrors, perfecting my balance and pointing my toes. And I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up---a dance teacher. I knew I would never want to leave my happy place.

But when I became a wife and mother, I stopped dancing. I never found the time or the place for it.

I stopped dancing for 8 years and it was hard for me. When I was hired as a dance teacher this past year, it was a struggle. I was rusty. (I still am rusty)

But dancing is magical for me. Dancing can cheer me up anytime I'm down. Dancing clears my thoughts and allows me to listen to my body.

I realized something tonight. It could've been a horrible day. I had an old friend say some really hurtful things to me and I could've let it affect me but I taught dance tonight. I watched myself in the mirror and admired my capabilities.

I was happy and free.

It reminded me why I dream.

I dream because hope is real. I believe in my dreams because I believe in myself.

I have an amazing life and as I sit here watching my son play Candyland---pretending he is two different characters on the board---and acting surprised each time he wins, I know I am right where I'm supposed to be.

This is the life I wanted to live. This is the life I dreamed of as a little girl.

I'm living my dream life.

And I thank God for that every single day.

It's All A Bit Tragic

I don't get it.

I don't understand taking sides when you've only heard one side.

How is that even considered taking sides?

It's all a bit tragic, really. The way things ended and the trickle effects of things that continue to happen. I'm trying to breathe and let it go and move on but that isn't as easy as it might sound.

This was my life. Those were my friends.

And it took seconds for it all to be over but it seems to be taking forever to move on. It seems like it'll be years before the effects have stopped, before I feel like I'm not being ganged up on.

This tragedy---it is between two people but somehow it became much bigger. Somehow it became about all of us.

Somehow it turned into a group effort, a war between myself and a group---and I don't find that fair.
Believe what you want, it isn't right or fair to single out one person for a mistake that they've made. It just isn't.

If I jumped back to a little over a year ago, I wouldn't have even known any of these people and as sad as that makes me feel, maybe that would've been easier.
Maybe...but not really.

Not really. 

It's all a bit tragic but it isn't the end of the world---for any of us.

For any of us. 

I wish that mattered the most.
I wish the unimaginable heartache that we have all experienced together and helped each other through was worth more than a mistake---a mistake made without vengeance or deceitful intent.

What our husbands have done to those of us who have married addicts is messy. It is deceitful and dishonorable.
I wish this wasn't categorized in the same way.

It's all a bit tragic, the way things went down. It's all painful and I'm sad that I misread the type of people I was becoming close to. I'm sad that I trusted when I shouldn't have.

And isn't that the story of my life, of most of our lives? 

It's so hard to trust others. It's scary. Quite honestly, it's one of my biggest fears. But once in a while, I do it. And even less times than that, I do it wholeheartedly. I give every ounce I can to the people whom I trust with my heart.

And sometimes, I get hurt. I get burned and my heart aches and I stop believing that trusting anyone is safe.

It ruins me for a while---not forever---but for a while. It's painful and I replay everything I've done for those people that should've counteracted any of the mistakes or the messes.

But burns happen. We don't get to choose who trusts us, even if we choose to trust them.

I hate that it happens but there is really nothing we can do about it. We can't control others.

Tonight I'm sad that I received more news of some after-effect retaliation. I'm sad that very few people seem to understand or give me a chance to explain. I'm sad that my heart aches as I try to move on to a place where I stop caring so much about people who have hurt me.

I wish it was a switch I could just turn off. Oh how I wish there was a switch.

But I Miss Her

It's hard to explain and even to understand the feelings I've been having lately.

Mostly it is heartache. Mostly it is pain.

I saw her for the first time in six weeks on Friday. The last time I saw her was the day before this whole mess started.
She didn't see me. She was picking her kids up early from school and I was in the carpool lane waiting for my daughter to get out of school. I saw her walking to her car and I could hardly breathe. The anxiety I felt was almost unbearable. I was sweating and panicking.

I don't know what I was afraid of---that she'd start a scene in front of the school or that if she saw me, she would ignore me. Either one would've been painful. Either one would've hurt unimaginably.

A part of me wanted her to see me and smile, letting me know she was healing and moving on, but I knew that probably wouldn't have been the case. I knew it would've hurt to have her see me.

Living seven minutes away from someone you are trying to avoid is messy. I'm surprised that this was the first time I'd seen her in six weeks. At the same time, realizing it had been six weeks brought back so much of the pain.
It's been six weeks since I lost a lot of friendships and supporters, six weeks since I decided fighting my eating disorder wasn't worth it, six weeks since I was close to committing suicide.
In a lot of ways, it feels like it's been longer---years, even. But in a lot of ways, it seems like she and I were best friends just yesterday.

I wish it were easy to just forget her and move on. I wish the pain was gone and that I could fully believe that it's better having her out of my life. Deep down, I believe it. Deep down, I know that if she could give up on me so quickly and not come and talk to me before talking horribly behind my back to so many others, I am better off without her in my life. On the surface, that all makes sense to me. I shouldn't want her in my life if she doesn't want me in hers---but there is a part of me that is still struggling to accept that the things she has said to me these past six weeks really happened. I want to believe that somewhere within her soul, she knows who I am, but it's hard when she has told me a lot of hurtful things.

On top of that stuff or maybe just going along with it, I've been struggling to feel like I'm adequate these days. I feel like I'm accomplishing huge things---school, work, mom life---but I'm just waiting for it all to fall apart. I feel like I am trapped, like I'm listening to these voices inside my head that tell me I'll never amount to anything.

And Peter...yeah, Peter. I feel like he is getting a little too emotionally attached to me lately. I don't know, maybe I'm overreacting. I get really tired of the games. I get tired of feeling like he wants me and then he thinks I'm a horrible mother and then he wants me and then he thinks all I ever do is remind him he owes me money and then he wants me again. It. Is. Exhausting.

In fact, everything is exhausting right now. Everything. My brain seems to always be in hyperdrive. My anxiety is always looming. THIS IS NOT LIVING, PEOPLE! It's just not dying.

But tonight, it's all I've got. Tonight, I am trying to focus on the small things like the fact that I was accepted to the college I wanted to go to and that I've been keeping up on my housework without a cleaning lady (who I was blessed to have for the past 8 months).

I am capable. I am going to get through all of this. Just not tonight.

The Haters

The very first time I came across this Brene Brown quote, I fell in love with it. I remember thinking it applied to Peter and his family and the way I was being portrayed in our divorce---as the cold, unloving wife who left her husband because he had lost his belief in God. They had no idea what he had put me through or what life was like in our home. And more importantly than that, for a while they didn't know HE was the one to leave ME.

He conveniently left out that detail and they didn't find out until right before our divorce was final and I told his dad during our divorce settlement meeting. {Fun times...}

I digress...

A lot of people have hurt me in my life and unfortunately, I've come to fear it and expect it. That doesn't make it hurt any less and the problem with that is that it takes a lot out of me to keep my relationships genuine. It is so freaking exhausting sometimes.

Tonight I was reading through the first few months of writing in this blog {I started it a year ago this month!} and I came across some words that I wrote that have fit perfectly with where I'm at right now.

"Today my writing taught me something I hope to never forget---I cannot rely on the actions of other people to determine my life. I am fighting against the urge to hate Peter. I am fighting against the urge to swear at him and post nasty things about him all over the internet. I am fighting the urge to lay in bed all night and cry. I am not a hater. And I am not going to become something that I'm not just because someone hurt my heart."

That last sentenced pierced my heart tonight because it is exactly what I've been trying to remind myself of all week. When she turned on me, I didn't gossip about her. In fact, I was still worried about her.

I still am.

And when she came at me a week later with more hurtful words, I stood up to her but I didn't gossip about her. I didn't run to our mutual friends and tell them how horrible she is. I didn't try to get people on "my side".

Sadly, she did. Her support system was most of our mutual friends and as she started believing and saying horrible things about me, she was saying those things to them and almost all of them stopped contacting me.

This hurt me a lot to realize.

I wish our mutual friends would displace their shock with questioning. I wish any one of them would've come and asked me for my side of the story. But they didn't. She's told them too many things about the type of person that I am for them to hear me out.

I've lost so many friends in the past few weeks.

But I have not hated on her. I have not written nasty things about her or tried to build up my own gang to counteract her allies. That isn't who I am. And I refuse to become someone that I am not just because someone hurt my heart.

It's as simple as that.

So many times, I've wish I could yell at her and our other friends who have believed her. I wish I could tell them how hurt I am but I don't think it would make a difference.

This is genuinely me. I am trying to trust that tonight. I am trying to believe that I am a good person and counteract the voice in my head that tells me I am innately selfish and horrible.

My Character

When someone tries to defame your character, you are left with a few different choices. And the thing is, a lot of the choices seem scary and messy.

You can cower down and lose confidence. You can put your trust in the accuser and wonder whether you are really, truly a bad person. 

Or you can do nothing. You can ignore it and live your life, cutting that person out to keep yourself safe from future hurt.

Or you can fight. You can become pissed off and possibly go bat-shit crazy on the person. You can attack their character right back. You can try and hurt them how they've hurt you.

Or...

Or you can fight for YOURSELF. This is different than fighting with the person. You can stand up for yourself when you are attacked and you can prove the person wrong. You can live your life, showing the world your character. You can have compassion for the persons anger and set boundaries that keep you from further harm as much as possible. 

And if you pick the fourth choice, which in most situations I would recommend, you will find who you're real friends are. 

They are the people who hear horrible things about you and question them. They are the people who come and ask you for your side, even if they don't agree with you in the end. They listen and they don't attack you. They don't believe things about you just because someone told them to. 

This is where I'm at right now. A lot of days, I struggle with trusting anyone---because I trusted her with all of my vulnerability. All of it. The deep stuff. The messy stuff. The happy stuff. I was transparent and I still got hurt so deeply. 

So it's hard to feel like I can trust any of my friendships to be genuine. But I'm doing it. I'm fighting for myself and part of that is continuing to trust the people in my life who have supported me. 

Because this trial is not going to ruin me. I won't let it. 

Yes, it has changed me. It has made a lot of things feel horrible and it has left me with a great amount of fear. And fear is hard for me because I live every day with an anxiety disorder that sometimes takes control. 

But ever since that day a month ago, I have worked. And that's all I can do. It doesn't matter that it still feels so scary and messy. It doesn't matter that I'm often afraid or feel anger. Because I'm trying. I'm trying a little bit each day. 

I'm trying to build a relationship with God because I'm putting my faith in the Spirit and it's ability to help me discern safety. 

I can't forget the power of the Spirit and the help my God gave me that day or in the weeks since. I've been so angry with Him but He didn't leave when I yelled. In fact, He surrounded me with extra comfort when I yelled and blamed and asked why. He loves me unconditionally. 

I know I can trust in that.

And I refuse to let this ruin my trust in the people who genuinely love me and support me. I refuse. 

Because I am a good person. I know I did everything I could in the best way I knew how at the time. 

Yes, in hindsight, I'd change a lot of things but that wasn't possible at the time...because I didn't know any of this back then. 

Goodbye, Old Life

Today my life is forever changed.

Today my life feels ruined. 

I don't know if I'll ever pick up the pieces from today. 

How to Care

Sometimes the demons get to my head and spread to my heart and I believe them.

Luckily, this isn't all of the time.

But it still happens.

I feel like such a failure for being single tonight. I feel like I'm fitting in less and less with the people around me. I feel like my two best friends are closer to each other and are pulling away from me---or maybe I'm pulling away from them. I don't know.

I had a counseling appointment this week where we made goals. One of the goals was taking care of myself---learning to put myself first sometimes.
I had been telling my counselor how I refuse to stand up for myself if I think it'll mean hurting someone else's feelings. I can't do it. Having a "talk" with my friends about how I'm feeling left out seems like a conversation where they will be offended or hurt in the end. After explaining all of this to her, she looked at me and said, "Wendy, then who is going to protect you? Who is going to take care of you?"

And the answer is simple.

No one.

I am not a priority in anyone's life. I don't have a spouse who puts me first. My children rely on me daily. My friends help sometimes. I seem to always be putting myself last on the list so that I can make sure everyone else is pleased and happy.

It's really exhausting.

But I do it because it seems like the right thing to do. I like helping other people. Honestly, a part of me hopes they'll help me in return---sometimes this happens and sometimes it doesn't---but either way, I'm still a rescuer. I don't know how to NOT be a rescuer.

I don't know how to put myself first.

I feel like I've been last on everyone else's lists for so long that there seems to be no hope for ever being a priority to anyone.

I feel so full of doubt and grief tonight. My counselor says grieving what's happened won't ever completely go away. I didn't really like the thought of that. I didn't like thinking about the fact that divorce is now a part of my story and that my trauma affects me often.

I feel like this will never end, like I will always be this Broken Wendy that everyone sees me as. I'll never be whole again. I'll never be strong enough to help others in a healthy way while still making sure I'm helping myself.

Instead, I'll kill myself making sure everyone else is receiving help and love and service. I'll slap a smile on my face and tell my friends nothing is wrong. I'll pretend that I've beat my eating disorder and that I don't give a damn if I never get married.

And on the inside, I'll be screaming and crying and feeling hopeless.

The Reality of Failing Friendships

Sometimes I find myself really hating Peter.

It doesn't happen often and it doesn't usually last long but there are times I hate him for what he's done to my life.

Because amidst the oh-so-blessed days, there is a whole pile of shit waiting to be dealt with. And sometimes, I can't take it.

Peter has ruined aspects of my life I didn't think he could touch. He didn't knowingly do this but his choices have made a lot of my relationships harder.

My best friend posted on The Book of Faces today a meme about something I wasn't understanding. She said something to our other friend about "not being able to wait until Saturday".  And I got a little anxious because I started to feel left out.

I sucked it up and pretended to be joking when I asked what her comment about "Saturday" meant.

I knew it was probably nothing and that I was acting like a freak but my anxiety took over.

A while later, I got on my iPad and saw that she had replied.
Awesome.
She said they are going to the movies on Saturday. The three of them and their husbands for her husband's birthday.

My first reaction was to hate Peter. To hate our divorce and how it has affected my other relationships. I hate being left out because I'm single. These are my BEST FRIENDS.

And then I started to have a panic attack about the reality of my friendships. 

Last year, for this same friend's husband's birthday, they gathered a group of couples and went bowling---and I went too. I had a great time and loved that my friends didn't feel weird about inviting their awkward single friend along.

So since it's now been another year and I got left out of this birthday event, I started to wonder if my friends really like me as much as I like them.

Am I just the sad, single charity case? Do they hang out with me as a service? Am I really an equal friend to them? 

I was trying to process these feelings but the more I thought about it, the more anxious I became.

My friends are incredible. 
But in that moment, I wanted to pull away from them. I wanted to curl up in a ball and never speak to them again to protect my heart from the inevitable abandonment ahead.

Because everyone ends up abandoning me in the end.

And because I have abandonment issues, I often wonder if people are genuinely there for me or if they just feel bad for my situation.


All of this...from a simple post on Facebook.

I don't want to blame these feelings on the fact that I haven't taken anxiety med's in 3 days and won't be able to get a refill on them until next Wednesday because I would be feeling this way regardless...but I'm also sure the fact that I am emotionally unstable isn't helping the process.

I feel so much shame in regards to my friendships. I've had so many failed friendships and I am always worried I will push someone else away. Obviously, I am the common denominator in my friendships failing. I look around and see so many people who have been friends for years upon years. There has to be something wrong with me that people won't stick around after a few years.

And since I'm coming up on the 3 year mark of meeting my best friend, I keep thinking it'll all blow up in my face soon. Because people don't always stick around.

And then I think about the fact that I've been a part of the Togetherness Community for over a year and when those people get to know me well enough, that'll be over too.

Because what do I give to a friendship? Awkwardness? More work? Service opportunities?
Am I even helpful? Am I even a genuinely good person to be around?

I want to believe I am worthy of best friends but life has shown me that best friends leave you.

And I'm so scared. I'm so so so so scared to lose my friends.

I want to trust that people understand and that they love me because of who I am but I don't really like who I am so it's really hard to trust that other people will like me 'as is'.

The shame spiral started a few hours ago. It has subsided a little bit thanks to some wonderful friends who talked me through it. But it isn't gone. The anxiety feels like a hangover and I don't want to reach out to anyone else because the more needy I am, the less people will like me.

Life feels so unsafe tonight. So shaky and unstable and scary.

Emotional Emotionless

Counseling was horrible today.
I was so incredibly stupid today.
Just one thing after another---I was beyond agitated.
Not with my counselor but with myself.
I couldn't spit my words out. I couldn't feel my emotions. I was obsessing over what my hands were doing and how even everything felt. OCD was horrible.

I seriously felt more stupid than I've felt in a long time. I was so angry with myself. I can't remember if I apologized but I feel like I just wasted an hour of both of our lives because I just couldn't work.

I think it might have had to do with the fact that the past few weeks of counseling have been overly incredible and I've worked so hard to be brave---have I mentioned I didn't like it? I know, confusing... I was so uncomfortable but each session, I left feeling like I had accomplished something great. I felt myself understanding the different parts of me a little bit better.

But I went into counseling today with a lot of fear that I had placed on myself to be more open and have more emotion. I told myself I would open up however much I needed to. And I think in doing so, I psyched myself out and just acted stupid the whole time.

So then I was mad.

I was a weak Wendy today. I tore myself down and was so incredibly hard on myself and I just couldn't imagine a world where I don't feel like this. How is that possible?

And tonight I broke down at my meeting. I was feeling so happy to be back among my support group and all of a sudden, a friend I've known literally since birth walked in the door.

No.

Hell no.

This stupid ass addiction has affected way too many people in my life.

For some reason, I just couldn't handle it. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and just run away to a world where pornography does not exist.

This isn't fair!!!

I cried the entire time she was speaking. I cried a little bit while spilling a few of my thoughts. I cried even harder during the closing prayer and I gave her a huge hug when it was all over.

You guys, I don't cry in front of people. I am so out of touch with my emotions these days. But I just could not hold it in tonight.

I hated pornography more than ever before. I hated what it was doing to some really incredible people that I know. I am just so angry about this.

But among the crying and my aching heart for my wonderful friend, I saw a small glimpse of a positive attitude toward myself. For a few seconds, I thought, "Good for you for caring so much about her, enough to cry in front of people. You are compassionate, Wendy. You have goodness."

It didn't last very long but it was there for a minute.

You have goodness, Wendy.

You are filled with so much light and only a little bit of dark---so stop focusing on the dark.

I want to be that girl. I want to love myself. I want to give myself a break.

I just don't know how.

Sensitive

I know, this is a redundant picture. I've used it before.

Tonight, I really just want to forget everybody. I want to forget all of the hurt and the pain and the awkwardness and the crap that comes with being an overly sensitive person.

And when I say overly sensitive---I quite literally mean that. OVERLY.

It's stupid, actually. Being overly sensitive is a weakness of mine and my goodness gracious, I do not like feeling weak. So sensitivity is a sensitive subject for me (ha!).

I'm trying to fight the urge to get my feelings hurt and talk myself through some really tough situations that I'm faced with. This is a huge step for me since I usually shut down when I'm faced with tough situations.

Ok, to be honest, I'm kind of shutting down. Maybe a little bit. But not to the same degree that I used to.
Baby steps, friends, baby steps...
I'm just trying to be more rational and sometimes that means letting myself feel the hurt and the anger for a while and acknowledging that this is who I am. I am a sensitive person. My feelings get hurt when I feel like people don't want me in their life. My feelings get hurt when I feel like people want others in their life more than me. My feelings get hurt by some pretty insignificant things.

I'm sensitive. I'm trying to be ok with that. And when I'm not ok with that, I am just trying not to shut down.

But I get it now. I get why my fight with Ed has become so much harder again. I get how much my eating disorder relates to any pain I feel in my life. When I feel insignificant, I work hard to prove that I am not. When I feel like people will abandon me, I work hard to prove that I am good enough.

The problem is that "good enough = skinny enough" in my mind. And I know my friends don't care about that but Ed tells me they secretly care, that everyone secretly feels like I'm worthless and stupid and sensitive and obnoxious.

This week, the "obnoxious" is my biggest fear and I don't feel any sense of worth because I am loud and obnoxious and I want to be subdued and never make mistakes. I don't want to feel stupid for being me. I don't want to be a screw-up.

I really want things to not bother me so much. I want to be confident and love myself and be an amazing friend.

I'm just so effing angry with myself tonight. I tried to write an uplifting post on my regular blog and it all felt so fake and stupid and I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie and act like I was feeling inspired tonight---because tonight, I feel anything but inspired. I feel anything but incredible. I feel anything but brave.

Maybe I'll get over it tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll be trying really hard to forget my pain and pretend that I am strong and that things don't ever bother me.

Because that just seems like the only way to feel ok tonight.

PS: Pan moved back...so there's that. Maybe that's why I feel like shit. No, I don't think it is but it sure has been "FUN" seeing him a few extra times in the past few days. Yay...not.

PPS: I need counseling. I'm drowning and I need counseling. And the only counselor I want to see is my old counselor, which is weird since I struggled with that for a while. I just don't know anymore. I really just don't know what I want.

Like A Boss

It has been an incredible week. An incredible week filled with good days and bad days---but every day has brought an experience I have learned from. Every day has taught me something about myself and brought a little bit of hope to my soul.
I had forgotten what believing in myself felt like.

Today I believe in myself. I believe I have worth. I look at dating and am determined not to settle. I believe I can bring something to the table in a relationship.

I'm not saying this will last forever or that I won't struggle. I'm not saying I love every inch of myself. I still struggle with my body image daily but today, I believe in my capabilities and I even believe a man could overlook my body imperfections if he truly sees the kind of person that I am.

I feel worthy of love today. The things I usually easily love about myself are back in plain view. I didn't have to search to find them this morning. They were just there.

My fear is that this won't last. My fear is that I still have spirals and hurdles to overcome.

But today I feel the possibility of healing. I do not want to be affected by divorce my entire life. I am a determined person. I will not let my past decide who I am supposed to be. I will fight my body image issues. I will fight pornography. I will fight for my friendships. I WILL FIGHT FOR MYSELF.

Because I am worth it.

I Choose NOT to Give Up

I stare at that quote a lot. I question it a lot. Because I often do feel like I give up on myself. When I listen to the lies of my eating disorder, isn't that giving up? It sure does feel like it.

The day Peter told me about his pornography addiction felt like a normal day. I didn't ever cry. I didn't really freak out. In fact, other than texting a few close friends to tell them about it, I did nothing. But the next day, I started getting chest pains every few hours. I'd be driving and I wouldn't even realize I was thinking about his addiction but all of a sudden, I'd feel short of breath and my chest would hurt. I was having small anxiety attacks multiple times a day but I brushed it off because, well, I do that!

A few days after that started, I began to convince myself that I am a hard person to love. I started pulling away from my faithful friends who have been there from day one and I started overly obsessing over my new friendships from The Togetherness Project. I told myself that only the Togetherness people could love this "new me" because they had all been where I was and on days when my new friends weren't available, I sunk really far into myself and was even more convinced that people have a hard time loving me. I didn't realize it consciously at first but I was pulling away from my two best friends and slowly shutting them out of my life.

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until last week, when a third friend mentioned that my friends were feeling abandoned and hurt by me. I had done the very thing I was so afraid of people doing to me. My immediate reaction was panic and guilt. How could I have done this? I am a horrible friend. I was afraid of contacting them and in most situations, I would've just given up because I don't like any type of confrontation. I stewed over it for a day before realizing that the person in my head telling me I was a burden to my friends is a liar. I was choosing to listen to Satan and he wanted me to abandon the supportive people in my life.

So I broke free. I apologized. I cried. I did things that are hard for me to do because my friends are worth it.
My friends are worth it.
My friends were the shoulders I cried on the night Peter left me. My friends were the people who showed up when I was crying over how much I had started hating myself. My friends were the first people (besides a therapist) that I told about my eating disorder starting to consume me once again. My friends have taken my children countless times and cleaned my house and had me over for dinner and let me hang out when I was feeling lonely on weekends without my kids. My friends have been there through all of this. They never abandoned me.

Satan wanted me to worry about them abandoning me and so I started to abandon them slowly to detach from the pain I thought would be coming in the future.

Although I was feeling panic and guilt about this last week, my heart feels lighter today as I think about the apologetic conversations I have had with my friends over the weekend. I treated them poorly and they allowed me to come back. I made the wrong choices and they gave me the opportunity to start making it right.

My friends mean everything to me. My faithful friends and my new friends are some of the biggest blessings in my life and I am so grateful that I am surrounded by all of them. But I owe so much of my blessed experience to my two very best friends. I am so glad they love me. I am so glad they want to help me. Today, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be friends with my friends.

I've learned from this experience that I am not going to give up on myself. If other people stick with me through some really stupid decisions, I feel like I can stick with myself too. This journey has been so hard and it will continue to be hard but I am not going to give up. Because "if it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly."